


Beach Bum

by Lil_Lizard_Leah



Category: IT - Stephen King, IT 2017
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Beach House, Beach Sex, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mike Kind of Radiates Dom Vibes, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Smut, Summer Vacation, Vacation, Well... kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-02 18:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Lizard_Leah/pseuds/Lil_Lizard_Leah
Summary: Mike and Richie take advantage of their beach house, and Richie's desperation.





	Beach Bum

Mike slowly felt himself drift into consciousness, awareness coming back to his senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. He felt next to him for his warm-bodied companion but found empty rustled sheets instead. Mike decided to take another moment before getting out of bed to search for his boyfriend.

When he finally padded down the hallway, lit up by early morning sun that covered his skin in waves, he found the kitchen and living room empty as well. He busied himself with making coffee, stretching himself out as the coffee pot filled drip by drip.

Yesterday had been exhausting, leaving his muscles feeling stiff from sleeping so deeply after such a long day. Him and Richie had arrived at the beach house well into the evening, after a day full of travelling. They’d ordered a mediocre pizza before passing out in uncomfortable positions that they’d seemingly held all night, if the rigidity in Mike’s limbs was anything to go by.

Once the coffee was done, he poured himself a cup and made his way towards the back door, having no doubt where he’d find Richie.

Richie was a capital B beach bum. He got restless anytime he was away from the water for too long. Something about the sand between his toes seemed to ground him, so when Mike had suggested that they get a summer beach house, it had earned him tons of gratitude from his excited partner.

This was the third year they’d spent their summer here since buying it, and Mike was used to Richie’s routine by now. Although usually a bed bug, Richie transformed into a morning bird every time they visited. He’d wake up at the crack of dawn, as if the sun itself had reached down and shook him awake, and he’d be in the sand before he’d even grabbed breakfast. The beautiful thing about having a private beach was that Richie never had to worry about looking unkempt, so he never bothered with looking presentable those mornings.

As he’d expected, Mike spotted Richie wadding around in the water, curly hair dripping over his shoulders and ivory chest reflecting the sun. Mike would have to grill him about wearing sunscreen later; also a routine they’d fallen into each year.

Mike leaned against the door frame, holding his cup to his chest as he watched the goofy grin on his lover’s face expand, and then fall as he got knocked over by a wave.

Mike waited until he was done his coffee to actually brave the salty air and scorching sand, wincing for a moment when the sun hit his golden eyes, until they adjusted to the brightness. He slid the patio door closed behind him and walked down the steps leading him to the beach.

It didn’t take long before Richie noticed him, grin returning as he waved wildly over his head as if Mike might not be able to spot the only other person in the vicinity. He smiled, returning the gesture, before settling down into one of the reclining beach chairs they’d set out.

Richie came traipsing out of the water, a little pep in his step from a morning in his happiest place. He was wearing something that Mike had never seen before, and he had to hold himself back from laughing at the sight of a tight leopard print speedo barely covering Richie’s junk.

“Good mooooorning Mikey!” Richie greeted, plopping down into Mike’s lap without warning. Mike let out a little _oof_ before settling his arms around Richie’s waist and pulling him close, complaining lightheartedly about Richie’s wet butt soaking his boxers in ocean water.

“What are you wearing?” Mike asked, cocking one eyebrow and smirking down at the offending item.

“It’s a speedo!” Richie defended, snapping the waistline against his skin for emphasis.

“Since when do you wear speedos?”

“What, a man can’t look good for his boyfriend?” Richie wiggled in his spot, rubbing up against Mike very deliberately. Mike’s hold on Richie tightened warningly and Richie stopped moving.

“You always look good; I just didn’t know speedos were your thing.”

“Well. Now they are.” Richie said decidedly. “Besides, you like it, don’t lie.” Richie squirmed in Mike’s lap once again, causing Mike to still his hands on his mischievous boyfriend’s hips.

“Are you_ trying_ to give me a boner on the beach?” Mike asked accusingly.

“Mmmmmmmaybe.” Richie looked up at Mike through thick black lashes, batting them to feign innocence.

“At least let a man have breakfast first.”

“But I’ve been waiting for you all morning.” Richie moaned.

The spot in Mike’s heart that belonged to Richie thumped a little louder, drowning out the common sense he was trying to hold on to. There was only so much he could do when Richie spoke to him with such desire and depravity.

“All right, get that little ass inside then.” Mike crumbled easily, slapping Richie’s ass playfully in a gesture to get him moving.

“Mmmm- too far.” Richie mumbled, beginning to nose at the column of Mike’s neck.

Mike laughed a little incredulously, deciding to humor Richie for a moment.

“So, what, we’re just gonna give our neighbors a show?”

“They wouldn’t complain.” Richie teased, his light kisses turning into nips that had Mike’s blood pressure rising.

“Richie…” Mike warned, beginning to feel himself stir in his boxers.

“Come on Mike, I didn’t get off at all yesterday.” Richie whined, the sound, unfortunately, only adding to Mike’s growing problem.

“We were travelling-”

“If someone hadn’t objected to joining the mile-high club, I wouldn’t be so riled up-”

“I didn’t want to start our vacation with us getting in trouble-”

“We wouldn’t have gotten in trouble-”

“You’re getting yourself in a lot of trouble right now with that mouth-”

“Oh, _sorry_ for missing my boyfriend’s cock-”

“Fine.” Mike gripped the back of Richie’s neck, pulling him inches from his mouth, Mike’s lips ghosting his. “You want me to fuck you on this beach, right out in the open where everyone can see what a desperate cock slut you are?”

Richie’s eyes were wide, shock written on his features. He clearly wasn’t expecting Mike to give in so quickly, but quite honestly, Mike didn’t have much fight in him when his dick was throbbing.

It took a slight jolt from Mike to remind Richie to answer, and then he was shaking his head eagerly.

“And what do you expect me to stretch you out with? Ocean water?” Mike prodded, the slight condescension causing a flush to Richie’s cheeks.

“No, I-”

“You have 30 seconds to get the lube or you have to stretch yourself out.” Mike deadpanned, the inklings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his lip. Richie loved it when Mike got authoritative.

It didn’t take long before Richie was stumbling to his feet, trying to beat the traction of the sand as he ran towards their beach house. Mike counted in his head, listening intently for the sound of padding footsteps exiting the house again. When they finally did, Mike was up to 38 seconds, but he chose to keep that to himself.

He heard a tumbling and whirled his head around to see Richie losing his footing on the stairs, his body slipping horizontal as his hand held on to the rail to keep him from fully falling. Mike noted the speedo, pulled haphazardly around Richie’s knees, and guessed that the culprit of his downfall.

“Someone’s eager.” Mike noted, as Richie righted himself and took the time to pull his speedo the rest of the way down, stepping out of it carefully before resuming his sprint towards Mike.

Richie came to an ungraceful halt in front of Mike, thrusting the lube out with a triumphant smile, his breathing labored from trying to beat the clock.

Richie’s cock looked painfully hard, and Mike wondered if going one day without fucking had always affected Richie this way, or if it was just since they’d gotten together. Mike’s ego would like to believe the latter.

“Alright, let’s get you satiated before some poor sap has to look out their window only to be blinded by your pale ass.” Mike crooked his finger in a come-hither motion.

“They can _admire _my pale ass all they want, as long as you’re the one fucking it.” Richie responded without missing a beat, climbing back into Mike’s lap.

Mike laughed along with Richie, giggling into each other’s mouths with a bliss that Mike only ever felt around the love of his life. It was a carefree laugh with no worries hiding behind closed doors or secrets hiding under floorboards. They were as raw and open with each other as they possibly could be, in a way that Mike hadn’t felt in any of his relationships outside the other Losers. He felt grateful that the world had allowed him to fall in love with one of his best friends.

It only took a few minutes of kissing for Richie to get impatient, tugging on Mike’s hand and trying to guide him where he wanted him.

“Please, Mike, just-” Richie panted against Mike’s lips, his voice breathy with need and cutting off midsentence.

“What, you want me to go in there dry after you went to all the trouble to grab the lube?” Mike chuckled deeply, reminding Richie that he was, in fact, holding the lube hostage in one tight-knuckled hand.

“Oh, fuck- yeah here.” Richie eagerly popped the cap on the bottle and squeezed about half its contents into Mike’s awaiting hand. It oozed through Mike’s fingers and down to his wrist as Mike’s shocked eyes flitted back and forth from the massacre in his hand to Richie’s face.

“Well jeez, think that’s enough, Rich?”

Richie made a noise deep in his throat that sounded both needy and apologetic all at once. As if he was sorry, but_ not really that sorry_.

With enough lube to drown a man, Mike had no problem slipping the first finger in. The others took a little more time, but within minutes Mike had four of his fingers thrusting in and out of Richie, the excessive lube making a lewd squelching noise that made Mike blush from top to bottom.

“Mikey, I can’t wait any longer, _please_-”

The switch from fingers to cock was effortless, Richie’s body stretching to accommodate the intrusion like the well-trained boy he was. He slid down Mike’s length with a heady moan that crawled into Mike’s gut and ignited the coil that was already pulling taut.

“I’ve got you.” Mike wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist, the action made easy by how tiny Richie was compared to him. Mike’s hand alone almost engulfed Richie’s entire back, eclipsing the pale skin with dark umber.

Richie melted above him, his muscles relaxing under Mike’s hold and the familiar stretch of his hole.

Over the years, they’d discovered that Richie took to dick the way others took to chocolate, or ice cream; cock was his comfort food. When Richie was nestled around Mike was when he was happiest, and Mike sometimes forgot how stressed Richie could get without his fill. Their trip really _had_ taken its toll on him.

“Is that better, baby?” Mike asked gently, rolling his hips and elating at the content mewl he got in response.

“Mmm.” Richie hunched over slightly so he could set his head on Mike’s shoulder, kissing his neck lazily as he began bouncing shallowly in place. Mike let his hands trail down the length of Richie’s back, settling on the globes of his ass and squeezing hard enough to leave crescent moons in his wake.

Richie responded with a slight increase to his thrusts, but not enough to satisfy Mike’s pulsing need.

“Are you gonna pleasure yourself on my cock, or just play around with it a little?” Mike teased, nudging Richie’s forehead with his chin so he was forced to look up and meet Mike’s wanting eyes.

Richie gazed at him through a shadow of lashes, innocence and deviance battling behind his eyes. Mike could tell Richie was trying to decide which response he wanted to give; whether he wanted to comply, or tease.

Richie straightened back up, placing his hands on Mike’s chest for stability as he peered down at him, decision made and determined.

Locking eyes with Mike, Richie tensed his thighs and raised himself up until just the crown of Mike’s head was settled against Richie’s rim. Mike’s lungs seized up in anticipation, before Richie was baring down and punching the air right out of him, along with a drawn-out groan.

“So good for me.” Mike crooned, watching as Richie repeated the motion again. “So beautiful like this.”

Mike’s hands moved to Richie’s thighs, surveying the fading marks he’d left there a few days ago. He pressed down on one, noticing how it blossomed around his finger and caused Richie to let out a little gasp.

“Wanna mark you up like this again.” Mike said absently.

“_Please_.” Richie begged wantonly.

If it was possible to get his mouth on those thighs and still fuck into him, Mike would have done so in a heartbeat. But as it was, he was not a contortionist, so he settled for putting it on the list for later.

They settled on a brisk but relaxed pace, letting themselves enjoy the languid thrusts and the thrill that rushed under their skin each time they remembered they were out in the open.

Mike ran his hands back up Richie’s body, taking his time to trace every curve and dip and crevice along the way. He payed extra attention to Richie’s nipples, grinning when it caused Richie to arch his back further and turn his head towards the sky.

Once Richie was red chested and begging for release, already wound so tight even though they’d only been at it for a few minutes, Mike let his hands trail the rest of the way towards their destination. Thick fingers threaded through black hair, which reflected in shades of brown and blue depending on how the sun chose to illuminate it. Richie’s hair was one of Mike’s favorite parts of his appearance, though it was tough competition if he was being honest. He loved everything about Richie, but there was something especially appealing about the way those soft curls would tighten around his fingers, caging him in as if they had a life of their own and never wanted to let him go.

In response, Richie’s hands darted into Mike’s own hair, which had been grown out since their younger years, and was now pulled into a bun atop his head. Mike had voluptuous curls of his own, but the sides and nape of his neck were all shorn, leaving the natural curls atop his head the main focal point. Richie had loved every hair style Mike had worn over the years, but this one was by far his favorite, and he was _vocal_ about it, too.

“God, you’re so sexy Mikey-” Richie breathed, eyes lidded and already looking fucked out of his mind. He absently pulled off the elastic that held Mike’s hair in place, and dug his fingernails deep into his scalp, watching as the curls cascaded down to frame Mike’s face.

Mike pulled him in close, leaning their foreheads against one another, and settling his gaze where they were connected. He watched intently as Richie continued to grind up and down, slowly squeezing the life out of Mike’s cock.

He couldn’t help but grind his hips, imagining himself stirring Richie’s insides around. And if Richie’s reaction was anything to go by, it probably felt fairly similar. Moans were dripping out of his mouth like saliva, getting higher and higher pitched as Mike continued his ministrations.

Mike pistoned his hips up once, experimentally, and received a resounding response.

“Daddy! Daddy- _fuck_\- oh my god-” Richie’s hips slapped down to meet Mike’s next thrust, his cheeks now marked with tear streaks that Mike wanted to lick off. Richie never looked as good as he did when he was wrecked like this.

Mike continued to fuck up into him, leaning in and kissing Richie’s forehead, his eyebrow, his temple. Their mouths intermingled as they both labored for breath and struggled to keep their pace.

“Fuck… look at you, princess.” Mike whispered against Richie’s lips

Richie keened at the use of the nickname, his entire body seizing up as he crested over the edge. Mike continued to fuck him through his climax, his touch gentle but his thrusts rough.

Once Richie finally stopped spilling out onto Mike’s stomach, aftershocks mimicking the waves behind them, Mike hit his own threshold.

Richie was pliant as Mike fucked up into him. He knew Richie was probably experiencing overstimulation, but he didn’t make a peep, letting Mike ride out his own orgasm for as long as he needed to.

It was a long time before either of them moved again. The warm sun had a way of lulling them into even deeper of a post-coital bliss than usual. It wasn’t until a seagull squawked nearby that they were brought back to reality.

Mike stretched his arms up above his head, smiling down at Richie as he nuzzled further into Mike’s chest. By now he’d completely softened inside Richie, and their stomachs were sticking together like someone had poured glue between them. He’d have to get them to a shower before Richie tried to prance back into the Ocean and claim it was ‘good enough’.

The seagull squawked again, sounding closer now and almost… human like. Now that Mike thought about it, it didn’t sound all that much like the seagulls they were used to. He swivelled around as much as he could with another full-grown man laying on his body and caught sight of the very-much-not-a-seagull trampling towards them.

“Fuck! Richie, get up!” Mike scrambled to stand on his own feet, hissing slightly as he slipped out of Richie’s tight heat and suddenly felt much more exposed than he’d like.

“What’s going on- OH FUCK.” Richie stumbled backwards a few steps before homing in on the fast approaching threat that had caused Mike’s reaction.

A few meters away, holding a sandal threateningly in her raised hand and a scowl on her face, was a woman who was speaking in spurts of Spanish and broken English. Richie had taken Spanish in high school, and although he didn’t remember much, he’d prided himself on learning every Spanish swear word there was; and this woman seemed to know them all.

Richie panicked, turning around in a circle and searching the sand as if he could find a way to hide himself, maybe build a quick sand castle and crown himself king. All may enter except this lady.

Mike, being the rational one as always, grabbed Richie’s wrist before he started booking it back towards the beach house.

As they reached the steps, Richie realized they’d left their lube behind, and high on adrenaline and panic, suddenly it seemed like the most important possession he’d ever owned.

“THE LUBE!” Richie shouted to Mike, tearing his arm from Mike’s grasp.

“Richie, leave it!” Mike shouted back, eyeing the woman who was still storming towards them, now yelling words that he didn’t need to speak Spanish to understand.

“No one left behind, Michael!” Richie ran back towards the chair, slipping down on to his side and sliding along the ground like he’d seen Bill do a million times in his baseball games. He felt the sand dig into his bare flesh and immediately regretted the decision, but he had no time to do anything but grab the bottle and run.

So, he did just that, kicking sand up behind him as he tried to move as quickly as possible. Ahead of him, Mike was holding the patio door open for him, anxiously ushering him forward as if it had the magic ability to make Richie faster.

When he finally reached the stairs for the second time, Richie felt something hard hit his back. He kept moving, his rapid heartbeat drowning out the yelling to the right of him.

He reached the top step, took a giant leap, and landed inside the beach house on wobbling feet. He turned back towards the door which Mike was sliding shut and locking into place, and he raised his hands in triumph.

Staring back at him from the bottom of their stairs, picking up the sandal she’d thrown at Richie, was the middle-aged woman who had all but damned them to hell. She was glowering in fury at the two younger men, the grip on her sandal strong enough to bend it nearly in half.

Richie lowered his arms, realizing it probably looked like he was flashing her on purpose. He mouthed a guilty ‘sorry’ as Mike drew the blinds shut.

“Well… that was an experience.” Mike whispered, as if worried the angry woman might have superhuman hearing.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be digging sand out of my ass crack for days.” Richie responded, turning and presenting his backside to Mike. The lube that coated his ass and upper thighs had acted as an adhesive for the sand he’d rolled in, leaving him absolutely caked in it. At the sight, Mike couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“Alright, let’s get you a shower.” He chuckled, side-stepping around his sandy boyfriend and only getting close enough to leave a peck against Richie’s forehead before was disappearing down the hall towards the bathroom.

Richie trailed after him, leaving a literal trail of sand in his wake.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt on tumblr from a lovely anon that got completely out of hand. I love the way it turned out, so I hope you all do too! <3


End file.
